


Speechless (But I Can Hear You Loud and Clear)

by akaparalian



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Comedy, Fluff, Gay Disaster Keith (Voltron), Halloween Costumes, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 05:15:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16423091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akaparalian/pseuds/akaparalian
Summary: Shiro is a sexy cat. Keith is a disaster.The hell of it is, he can’t even tell what the fuck Shiro is supposed tobe. There’s black spandex involved, but not very much of it, just barely enough to cover him from ass to chest. His shoulders —God those shoulders —are bare, and so are his legs, almost in their entirety, and, worst of all, he’s wearing acollar, plain black leather with a little bell on it.  He has two little black stripes on each of his cheeks, too, and a dot of face paint on his nose, but that’s not much helping Keith identify the intended nature of his costume. And he’s been staring blankly across the room for probably going on five minutes now, though it feels like an eternity, so if he hasn’t figured it out yet, he reckons he’s not going to.





	Speechless (But I Can Hear You Loud and Clear)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Showert_ime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Showert_ime/gifts).



> This was for the Sheith Halloween Exchange on Tumblr. Happy Halloween, Showert_ime!! I had SO much fun writing this fic, you have no idea. I really hope you like it!! :'D Just some goofy fluffy fun, because Keith and Shiro deserve it tbh. 
> 
> Title from "Body" by MNEK!

In a horrifying twist of fate that he never thought he’d see, Keith contemplates the fact that he should probably buy Lance flowers or something.

That can be later, though. Later meaning whenever he’s no longer struck dumb by the tableau spread out before his disbelieving eyes. Later meaning when he’s come to terms with the fact that this is, probably, the pinnacle of his entire life. Which is honestly a little depressing, because he’d really sort of hoped that he’d get farther in life than a Halloween party — which, because it’s in the dorms and also an official university event, doesn’t even feature booze — before he hit his peak. On the other hand…

On the other hand, _Shiro_.

Yep. He’s definitely getting Lance flowers, or a cake — he’s willing to bet he could convince Hunk to make him a cake without actually letting him know what exactly it was for — or _something_ for physically dragging him to this stupid party, becuase if Lance _hadn’t_ dragged him to this stupid party, he would never have seen Shiro wearing just whatever the hell it is that Shiro is wearing.

There’s a crush of people, voices shouting over one another and over the pounding of what seems to be a trap remix of the Monster Mash, which is a whole kind of horror all its own, but Keith doesn’t even notice any of it. His whole world is faded out and gray, tunnel vision focused on one thing — well, one person. 

The hell of it is, he can’t even tell what the fuck Shiro is supposed to _be_. There’s black spandex involved, but not very much of it, just barely enough to cover him from ass to chest. His shoulders — _God those shoulders —_ are bare, and so are his legs, almost in their entirety, and, worst of all, he’s wearing a _collar_ , plain black leather with a little bell on it. He has two little black stripes on each of his cheeks, too, and a dot of face paint on his nose, but that’s not much helping Keith identify the intended nature of his costume. And he’s been staring blankly across the room for probably going on five minutes now, though it feels like an eternity, so if he hasn’t figured it out yet, he reckons he’s not going to.

“You’re gonna catch flies if you keep standing there with your mouth hanging open.”

“Huh?” Keith replies, very eloquently, as he jumps and spins to find that Lance has snuck up beside him, looking very self-satisfied and _very_ amused. He’s got Hunk and Pidge with him, who look more along the lines of pitying and resigned, respectively. 

“Everyone’s costumes look great, huh?” Lance continues, his tone just this side of patronizing. “I mean, wow, people really pulled out all the stops. And our resident residential sexy cat advisor looks _especially_ nice.”

Oh, God. 

“Is _that_ what —” Keith manages, feeling a bit like he’s choking on air with every breath he takes. He glances, askance, between Lance and Shiro, who’s still on the other side of the room, completely oblivious to Keith watching his every move. He’s talking to someone that Keith vaguely recognizes as one of the other RAs, and his eyes are bright as he smiles and laughs. Keith takes in the whole costume all over again — black spandex minidress, face paint on his nose and whiskers on his cheeks, the _collar_ — and realizes that Lance is right. Shiro _is_ a sexy cat. God, does he have a tail? Can Keith just not see it from this angle? And where are his _ears?_

“He doesn’t have any ears,” Keith points out, inwardly impressed with how even he manages to keep his voice, how reasonable he sounds in his own mind. Everyone else seems less impressed.

“You know what?” Hunk says, in a very encouraging sort of voice that almost succeeds at convincing Keith they don’t all think he’s currently hitting heretofore unknown peaks of disastrous gayness. “That is a _great_ conversation starter. You should go ask him where his ears went.”

“His cat ears,” Pidge clarifies helpfully. “Not his human ears. He’ll probably think you’re crazy if you ask where his human ears went.”

“You’re not being very encouraging,” Hunk mutters out of the corner of his mouth.

“Oh, I know.”

“I’m not going to ask about his ears, that’s — no,” Keith protests, feeling his shoulders creep up to his own ears as he shoves his hands into his pockets. First of all, there’s no way that that is _actually_ a good conversation starter. Second of all, there’s no way that he’s talking to Shiro right now, period. Shiro is currently dressed up as the sexiest sexy cat that Keith can possibly imagine, and Keith — well — Keith didn’t dress up at all, because he’d only come, initially, to humor Lance. So he’s just wearing jeans and a red flannel. In a pinch, he could probably claim to be a lumberjack, but he’d feel a bit like an idiot doing it.

“Oh, so, what, you’re just gonna stare at him like a creep instead of talking to him at all?” Lance says, shoving Keith lightly on the shoulder. Keith swats his hand away, scowling. “Dude, are you saying my flawless plan to drag you to this party so that you can finally take the ‘unresolved’ out of you and Shiro’s UST was all for _nothing?”_

UST? Keith turns to fully face Lance, finally tearing his gaze away from Shiro, and frowns. A stupid, useless crush on his RA is not UST. And Keith doesn’t appreciate Lance saying so, because, Jesus, seeing Shiro around the dorm and sitting across from him at hall meetings and running into him on campus is already bad enough without getting his damn hopes up that his stupid, useless crush is anything but. He’s about to tell Lance so, but before he gets the chance, Hunk’s eyes go wide at something over Lance’s shoulder and he coughs into his hand.

“Uh, guys, _incoming,_ ” he says very quickly, and that’s all the warning they get before Keith hears Shiro’s voice cutting through the din of the party.

“Hey, guys!”

“I think I just saw Keith’s soul leave his body,” Lance observes, thankfully under his breath, for once. Then he spins around and says, louder, “Hey, Shiro!”

Keith, for his part, is trying furiously to convince his body to just sink through the goddamn floor or something. If he’d thought the sheer amount of bare skin Shiro’s showing off was bad from all the way across the room, well, good fucking grief, it is something else entirely in close quarters.

It’s not that he’s shallow. There are many, many things about Shiro that he finds captivating that have nothing at all to do with the way he looks, and he could look pretty much any which way and Keith’s pretty sure he’d still find him just as mind-bendingly gorgeous. It’s _that_ kind of a crush, or maybe, _maybe_ , something a little bit beyond a crush, at this point. But it’s just — Shiro’s just — well, at the moment, Keith doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone more attractive.

No, he decides, he’s definitely not asking about the ears, because adding cat ears to this equation might somehow make him even sexier, or maybe some heretofore undiscovered combination of sexy and cute. And _that?_ That might well and truly be the end of Keith. 

“Glad you guys could make it,” Shiro is saying when Keith snaps back to reality. He’s smiling amiably around at the four of them, and thankfully, it looks like the moment where Keith was completely overwhelmed by his presence went more or less unnoticed. 

“It was hard work getting _some people_ down here, let me tell you,” Lance complains, gesturing completely unsubtly at Keith with his chin and rolling his eyes. Shiro huffs a laugh, and then, _no, God, no_ , turns to focus completely on Keith.

Were his eyes always such a soft shade of gray, or is that the lighting in this room, somehow? Or is it just that Keith’s entire brain is short-circuiting, any mental functions dedicated to anything other than appreciating Shiro having long since ceased to function?

“I’d ask what you’re dressed up as, but I take it the answer is ‘Keith,’” Shiro teases, his eyes crinkling up a little bit at the edges when he smiles. Keith manages to take a deep breath that, thankfully, doesn’t come back out as a wheeze.

“Yeah, you got me,” he says, and sure, maybe he sounds a _little_ strained, but it mostly gets lost under the pounding of the music. All in all, he considers it a pretty decent showing, personally.

Lance kicks him in the shin, hopefully out of sight, and Keith shoots him a glare. Lance just glares right back and winds up to kick him again, and the distraction gives some evil, thirsty part of Keith’s brain enough opportunity and inspiration to add, “You look good, though.”

Shiro looks — pleased? Holy shit. Shiro looks pleased. He actually looks a little _bashful_. He’s fucking blushing, a tiny bit, the tips of his ears flushed red. How on Earth is it possible for him to be dressed like _that_ and look _that_ hot and still also look like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth?

“Yeah?” he says, dipping his head a little and looking up at Keith through his eyelashes. Rational Keith — Normal Keith — chokes on air. Horny, Inspired Keith jumps on the opportunity.

“Yeah,” he repeats. “Yeah. _Really_ good.”

(“Is that all it takes?” Pidge says, apparently to no one at all. “After all this time, is that _really_ all it takes?”

“Shut up, they’re precious,” Hunk chides.)

Shiro bites his lip in what seems to be an attempt to hide his grin. If that _is_ what it is, then it’s terribly ineffective.

“Well, you look really good, too,” he says, just soft enough that Keith has to lean in a little bit to hear him. His heart is about to beat out of his ears. He hasn’t quite decided whether or not he believes that this is really happening, or if maybe instead of dragging him to this party Lance actually slipped him some LSD or something and this is just a really, really, really, incredibly good trip.

“Thanks.” Normal Keith appears to have wrested control from Horny, Inspired Keith for just a second, which has the unfortunate side effect of making him a good deal more awkward, uncertain where to go from here. They can’t just stand here going, _You look good. No, YOU look good,_ can they? But if not that, then what? Keith’s never really gotten this far before. Not with anyone, and certainly not with Shiro, and, well... Flirting isn’t exactly anywhere on his list of personal talents. 

Is that what they’re doing? Are they honestly flirting? Was Lance right about it being UST? Lance is _not_ supposed to be right. Ever. If Lance is right about one more thing tonight, Keith is going to _lose it_.

And, speak — or think, anyway — of the devil, and the devil shall abandon you in your hour of deepest social uncertainty. “Hey, I want some punch,” Lance says, apropos of nothing, though he’s glancing between Keith and Shiro so fast and with such a wide-eyed, meaningful expression that Keith has the brief, ridiculous thought that his eyes might go flying right out of his head. “Hunk? Pidge? You guys want punch?”

“Punch, yes,” Hunk replies immediately, grabbing Pidge by the arm and herding Lance along with his other hand. “That’s a great idea. See you guys later, we’re proud of you, goodbye.”

Just like that, Keith’s only friends in the whole fucking world abandon him, like the horrible, horrible people they really are. He knew Pidge and Lance were the kind of people to laugh at his pain (lovingly, or at least that’s what they’d say), but he honestly would have hoped for more from Hunk. Wishful thinking, apparently.

Though, he thinks as he turns from staring despairingly after them as they disappear into the crowd in the direction of the snack table to glance back at Shiro instead, trying not to be too obvious about gauging his reaction, maybe — just maybe — they are actually onto something. Maybe he can appreciate being given at least a modicum of privacy, however much privacy there is to find at a crowded party, anyway, because the way Shiro’s looking at him is…

Keith’s not blind, but he’s also not really all that great at people. Even still, there aren’t a lot of ways to misinterpret the way Shiro’s eyes have gone soft and hot, molten. He bites his lip, damn him, and Keith is absolutely incapable of stopping his eyes from zeroing in on the way Shiro’s perfect white teeth leave the flesh pink and puffy in their wake.

“I really am glad you came,” Shiro says, and once again Keith has to lean in to hear him. He’s hyperaware of how close they are, of the scant inches between them, the way the air feels hot and humid as he tilts his head up to meet Shiro’s eyes again, because at least that’s better then staring at his mouth, if only just. “I get the feeling this _really_ isn’t your kind of gig, but… It’s good to see you. It’s good to have a chance to spend some time together outside of hall meetings.” 

He smiles, a little self-deprecatingly, and Keith hardly even notices over the buzzing in his ears. Is this — is this real? Is this happening? 

“I’m glad I came, too,” he chokes out, not at all smooth, but honest, at least. “I — I guess I didn’t realize…”

Keith swallows hard, cutting himself off. What the hell can he say that won’t sound stupid or creepy or wrong? _I guess didn’t realize you would want to see me?_ _I guess I didn’t realize I had a chance with you? I guess I didn’t realize you’d look at me like that?_ All of those are true, but the very thought of actually saying any one of them to Shiro’s face makes his cheeks heat.

_It’s good to have a chance to spent some time together_ , Shiro had said. Suddenly, something shifts in his head, and Horny Keith — bless him — takes over again, taking a tiny half-step forward to eliminate most of the remaining distance between them. Shiro smells, up this close, like sweat and people, but also a bit like leather, and a bit like some smokey cologne that Keith doesn’t recognize but that is driving him absolutely wild as he takes a deep breath in.

“Listen,” Keith says, and watches, lingering shock and bewilderment battling a growing sense of heat and shivering joy in the pit of his stomach, as Shiro’s eyes flit over his face, landing unmistakably on his lips as he speaks. “I was wondering if — I — do you maybe want to —”

“There’s a new planetarium show opening up at the Natural History Museum next Friday,” Shiro blurts, looking more than a little nervous himself even as he blessedly, blessedly cuts Keith off. “If you wanted to, we could — go together?”

Keith’s heart honest-to-God flutters, which is so far below his threshold for embarrassing warm feelings for this particular evening that it hardly even registers, especially compared to the way Shiro’s whole face lights up when he only hesitates for a second before asking, “Just to be really, really clear, you mean like a date, right?”

“Yeah.” Shiro’s voice is impossibly soft, and if Keith weren’t basically pressed against his chest at this point, he’s absolutely sure he’d be stuck trying to read his lips — not, of course, that that would really be a hardship. “Yeah, I definitely mean like a date.”

“Then, yeah,” Keith breathes, unable to decide where to focus his attention: Shiro’s eyes? His mouth, curling up into a delighted smile? His cheeks, flushing pink in a way that makes the scar across the bridge of his nose stand out adorably?

“Keith,” Shiro rumbles, his voice caught somewhere between breathy and low, and it sends a shiver down Keith’s spine even as Shiro brings a hand up to cup his cheek. The other settles on his hip, and no matter how welcome it is, it still makes him nearly jump out of his skin, his eyes going wide as he looks up at Shiro from under his eyelashes, unable to quite make direct eye contact. 

“Yes?” 

“Can I kiss you?”

Very, very distantly, Keith processes a shriek of triumph from across the room that he would normally be able to definitively identify as Lance. At the moment, though, he’s otherwise occupied, his brain blissfully blank as he shoves himself up onto his tiptoes and grabs Shiro’s face in both hands so that he can press their lips together. 

It’s not a long kiss; Keith rocks up, keeps the pressure for a few seconds and revels in the hot, wet slide of their mouths as Shiro gasps against him, and then rocks back onto his heels. He’s well aware he’s blushing — from the way his face and the back of his neck are burning, he’s probably gone full tomato. But the dazed, happy look on Shiro’s face as he blinks rapidly makes it more than worth it. His face paint whiskers and kitty nose are a little bit smudged, though from his expression, Keith suspects he doesn’t mind in the least.

“So,” Keith says, a little breathless, while the party swirls on all around them. This is, easily, the sweetest thing he’s ever been given for Halloween, though that thought is so cheesy that he’s taking it to his grave. “Next Friday?”

Shiro’s answering grin is blinding. “I’ll see you then.”


End file.
